Her Night With Murtagh
by itchy magee
Summary: *Spoiler Alert* This entire story is one big spoiler Set after Inheritance, on a sleepless night, Nasuada is visited by a, not altogether unexpected visitor. A lot of questions are answered speculatively, of course .


Nasuada woke with a start. She sat up, shaking slightly, a cold sweat having settled over her body. She had been plagued with nightmares since she took the throne of the Empire several years hence, but this one had been so vivid. So real. Most would have thought her strange, to count some of the dreams she had as nightmares. Most nights, she dreamt of assassination, revolt, Galbatorix returning from the grave. The last one particularly terrified her, as Eragon and Saphira were no longer here to defeat him again. However, the rest of the dreams that plagued her were ones of a longing nature; the dreams in which she was free of her responsibility as High Queen, the ones in which she was a wife and mother living and gently governing a beautiful swathe of land. She hated those dreams almost more than her nightmares about Galbatorix. She knew that she could have very well had those things, had she chosen not to put the good of the land and her people before her own needs. Usually, the thoughts that calmed her back into an uneasy slumber were those of the people whose lives she'd saved, and probably improved. But no matter what she did the worst of her nightmares, were the ones in which she and Murtagh ended up together.

Those dreams, thankfully, were seldom occurring. They were terrible, they showed Nasuada over and over the scene Galbatorix had put into her mind while she was his prisoner. She and Murtagh were standing in a pavilion, looking out over the beautiful rolling hills that made up their lands. He held her in his arms and kissed her tenderly, as behind them they could hear the sound of children's laughter. _Their_ children's laughter.

Nasuada shook her head. She looked around her darkened chamber. The fine furniture and beautiful embroideries lining her walls were all bathed in the light of the full moon shining through her open balcony window. The open glass door unsettled her, though she'd left it open herself to allow the cool night breeze to flow into her chambers. Now it gently pushed the white curtains she'd had hung around the glass door, making it seem as though they were flowing with the currents of the ocean, rather than a summer breeze.

The High Queen laid her head back down on her goose-feather pillow, and she stared at the high ceiling. Her recent dream of living happily ever after with Murtagh brought back hideous flashbacks of when she was stuck strapped to the stone slab in the Soothsayer's Hall here in this very city while Galbatorix still ruled. Her ceiling now was much more decorative than the other had been, but this one was lacking the lines of color etched into the other.

Suddenly, several things happened at once. Nasuada heard Elva stir in her adjoining chambers, like she was having a bad dream, Nasuada herself was overcome with a sense of being watched, as well as a flash of red appearing at the edge of her vision, in the direction of her balcony. Pretending she was asleep, Nasuada feigned a stretch as she reached under one of her pillows for her dagger. Resting her hand on the hilt she braced herself. Then, quick as an elvish arrow, she pulled the dagger from its sheath and sat up, folding her legs under herself to allow her to jump up if need be. She hadn't really expected anyone to be in her chambers when she looked over to her balcony doors. The thick, black silhouette of a tall man stood in her chambers, close to the balcony, his back to the shining moon. She didn't need to see his face to know who it was.

Nasuada eased her stance, and lowered the dagger,  
"You're back."  
Murtagh took a while to answer, "Yes."  
"Why?"  
Again, Murtagh took his sweet time preparing his answer. When he offered none, Nasuada got off of her bed, leaving the naked blade on her nightstand. She walked over to Murtagh, her white nightgown glowing in the moonlight. She walked up to him, and put her hand on his arm.  
"Why did you come back? Here, now?" she gestured to her darkened chambers. Nasuada could sense that he hadn't really been anticipating her being awake when he came to her chambers in the dead of night.  
"Nightmares" was the only answer he offered, as he turned to face the city underneath them, never leaving the shadows of Nasuada's chambers. Withdrawing her hand from his arm, Nasuada smiled inwardly, that was the only answer she needed. She took a step forward, crossed her arms and stood next to him, looking out over the city she had renamed Ilirea.  
"You too, hm?"  
She saw him shift his gaze down to her for a brief moment. Most would have been offended, an unmarried man looking at an unmarried woman in her nightgown. Nasuada didn't care, he'd seen her in much less, in much worse conditions.

After a moment more of silence, the night sounds of the city the only noise, Murtagh finally spoke up.  
"I see you're still not married."  
"Married?" she scoffed, "I _am_ married, to Orrin, to Orik, to the Elves, to all of this Empire's allies, to all of the people in Alagaesia. I barely have time for myself, how could I possibly think of taking care of a husband and _children_." She said the last word as if the thought of her bearing children was utterly ludicrous. After a while more of silence, she spoke up again, trying to urge Murtagh to speak to her.  
"Where is Thorn?" she asked, inquiring of the Rider's massive red dragon.  
"Circling the city," he looked up to the starry sky, and smirked, "he wasn't very fond of this idea."  
"You took a great risk coming here."  
"He went along with it, because he knew how much I…" he trailed off, seeming to have been caught in Nasuada's eyes. After a brief moment, he shook his head slightly and looked away, and down at his boots, his long hair shadowing his dark eyes. Nasuada knew that there was so much that he wanted to say, and yet something was holding him back.

She put her hand on his cheek, and turned his head to look at her. His face was sad, she knew that in the darkest hours of the night, when there was no one around to save them, they were both tormented by thoughts of each other.  
"I've missed you." She whispered, her eyebrows coming together, her eyes now sad. Murtagh turned and took her face in both of his large, callused hands, stroking her cheek with his thumb. Suddenly, she was seized with hideous flashbacks of this very man branding her skin with a white hot iron. Nasuada blinked, and turned away, walking further out onto her balcony, and placing her hands on the stone railing. Murtagh did not follow, but stayed in the shadows behind her.

Nasuada took a deep breath, and exhaled out into the night air. She covered up her pain with a more brisk tone,  
"So, dear Murtagh, what have you and Thorn been up to these, what five years?"  
"Travelling, mainly." He answered, his voice still low, but more lively than before. "Thorn and I still have a lot of healing to do," he added more seriously, "and staying in one place seems to slow our process."  
"Tell me of some of your adventures then."

Murtagh then recounted the main points of the last five years he'd spent travelling with Thorn. The two had (aside from working to heal their wounds dealt by Galbatorix) mostly spent their time exploring ruins, improving their combat skills (now without the aid of any Eldunari), and had even done some good in the land. Murtagh recounted a tale of how he'd rescued a travelling caravan from some of Galbatorix's old soldiers. Nasuada pointed out that, if what he said was true, and he and a great red dragon had been seen fighting ex-soldiers, why hadn't she heard tell of his presence in the land?  
"Since Thorn and I keep away from most any and everyone, and I make us invisible when we can't help but be seen, I seriously doubt anyone would take a loathed and probably crazed ex-soldier's word that the great Murtagh and Thorn had returned."

Nasuada couldn't help but chuckle at the last part. The two had moved from their tense and offensive positions away from each other, to sitting cross-legged, and facing each other in the doorway of Nasuada's balcony. The former leader of the Varden then recounted the tails of her trials as the new High Queen of the Empire. Murtagh, having travelled about the land by dragon for five years, undoubtedly knew all that she had done, so she mainly told him of things that had happened to her. She told him of the assassination attempts on her life (which made him growl), she told him of the trials of gathering and organizing her new magic officiators (the Silver Hand), and she told him of the stresses of maintaining her relationships with her allies. However, Nasuada was not one to wallow in self-pity, nor was Murtagh one to pity those who did not need it. She soon after recounted some happier tales, such as her experiences organizing and observing the first of the Games, as well as the joys of Arya discovering the new Riders. Of this, Murtagh was keenly interested, he knew nothing of what had happened to Eragon.

Nasuada first told Murtagh of what had become of his half-Brother. In the years since Eragon left with the Eldunari and the dragon eggs, she had heard barely anything from east of Alegaesia, save one letter sent for her when the elves had come to deliver two more dragon eggs to hatch for new Riders. It was a long letter from Eragon to Nasuada meant to tell her of what he had been doing, and where he had settled. According to this letter, Eragon, Saphira, and the elves had traversed down the Edda river, which ran south-east through the land beyond Alegaesia, for a week, seeing nothing but empty badlands. Finally, the letter read, they sailed into a canyon, a vast canyon of immense proportions. It was in the caves lining these canyons that they settled to begin the training of the Riders and the raising of the dragons. The letter went on to describe all they'd done to build a vast city of caves, as well as to tell how incredibly well the young dragons were doing. Saphira had taken to them as if they were her own, and they all looked up to her as their mother. Nasuada continued by telling Murtagh of the three riders that had emerged. Arya and her green dragon Firnen (of which Murtagh already knew), the Urgal, Kagral and his black dragon, and the human Evelyn and her violet dragon. She explained that they had stayed with Arya in Du Weldenvarden until their dragons were old enough to make the journey out to Eragon's new dragon haven.

Murtagh seemed to be lost in thought after hearing all this. A frown had creased his brow, and his chin rested on his knuckles as he stared intently at his boots. Nasuada looked at him, concerned, and asked,  
"Murtagh, are you alright?"  
He looked up at her and after a moment, gave a faint grin, and nodded. He looked suddenly out into the still dark sky, as if he'd heard something. He stood slowly, still staring out into the sky, and then looked down at Nasuada.  
"I should go."  
Something compelled Nasuada, and she suddenly jumped up and put her hand on his arm.  
"Don't go." She said. She wasn't willing to let this dream, if dream it was, end. He gave her a confused look, and she continued, the words seeming to come from nowhere,  
"The reason I never married, isn't just because I don't have the time. I'm a woman of power and standing, if I want to marry, I can marry for whatever reason I choose. And I haven't chosen anyone, because I'll never feel about someone the way I feel about…" she gained control of herself then, and closed her mouth. Feeling ashamed, and embarrassed, she dropped her hand from his arm. However, Murtagh grabbed her hand up, and held it gently against his chest, over his heart.  
"Nasuada," he said strongly, "I have never stopped loving you. Long after you're gone, you will still haunt me. For eternity," he pressed her hand tighter on his chest, "you will hold my heart."

They stood that way for what seemed eternity. Both lost in each other's gaze, his hand over hers, and her hand on his heart. Suddenly, surprising her, Murtagh scooped her up into his arms, and, his eyes never leaving hers, carried her over to her bed, muttering something in what she knew was the ancient language. He laid her tenderly down on her bed, leaning over her.  
"What did you do?" she asked breathlessly.  
"I made it so we could be alone together for just one night."  
He leaned in and kissed her, just as they'd always wanted to. They pulled each other closer, then Nasuada stopped.  
"Murtagh, I'm not so sure-"he cut her off with another kiss.  
"I don't care if I regret this for a thousand years, I will have you Nasuada, for this one night, I will have you."  
And they were off in a passionate whirl of white blankets.

The next morning, Nasuada awoke happier than she'd been in what seemed like centuries, and for a brief moment, she could not remember why. But when she looked around, and found that somehow her nightgown had made its way from her, to the floor, suddenly, it all came flashing back. Her night with Murtagh. Her heart seemed to drop to the floor with sorrow at being, once again, left alone. Feeling tears come to her eyes, she sighed and rolled over, only to see a small something lying on the pillow next to her. A slender, silver ring, topped with what appeared to be a silver rose. She took it up, and gazed at it in the light of the rising sun. The rose was so detailed, it seemed as though it had been picked from a peculiar plant that grew tiny roses made of silver. She placed the ring on each of her fingers to see which one the slender ring would fit on.  
To her surprise, it was made to fit her ring finger.

Nasuada's heart swelled as she looked at the beautiful rose adorning her ring finger, a symbol of an ever-lasting love, one that would remain a secret, for eternity.


End file.
